


tongue-tied

by heatheninhiding



Series: eboys oneshots [14]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatheninhiding/pseuds/heatheninhiding
Summary: alex and george are in love that's it that's the summary
Relationships: George Andrew/Alex Elmslie
Series: eboys oneshots [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827814
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	tongue-tied

**Author's Note:**

> uwu <3

“hey,” george whispers. “it’s late, al, you should really go to bed, mate."

“can’t,” he dismisses, words tinged with slight desperation. like he's begging george not to tempt him with that sacred word - _sleep._ "need to get this done _now."_

george sighs as he walks over, takes his arm gently and slowly drags him up and out of his chair and, eventually, over to his bed. despite alex's mumbled protests, he doesn’t make too much of a fuss, letting george take him, surrendering to the hold.

he tucks him into bed, waits for him to take his hoodie off before putting the covers over him. a hand grabs his before he can make another move, and he looks back down at him, met with a small pout. “stay?”

his stomach flips. “course, yeah. just gonna get the lights first."

when he lays down next to him, alex looks comfortable, less tense. he’s sleepy but keeps his eyes open.

george is conscious that this isn’t something friends do, usually. he’s not sure when the lines became so blurred, between him and alex.

"massage?"

alex nods, turning over so his back is to george. george reaches underneath his shirt, gentle fingers dancing across the soft, warm skin. he’s so warm, back tensing and then relaxing underneath his touch. he rubs at the skin gently, massages the knotted skin and listens to alex’s sharp intakes of breath.

alex is anxious enough for the both of them, it seems. he bites his nails, gnaws on the inside of his cheeks and stares into space until someone nudges him, snaps him out of it. he works himself to the bone and beats himself up for falling asleep without getting stuff done. he's hard on himself in a way that makes george sad.

he's insecure; he lets people's words stick to the corners of his mind like cement, slowly building up walls of negativity that block any and all reassurances his friends are constantly trying to drill into his head. george just wants to shake him sometimes, just wants to throttle him until he gets it through his head that he’s fine, _perfect_ , just the way he is.

he just doesn't seem to have the right words.

there are times when george has to bite his tongue, to avoid saying the wrong thing. it’s inevitable when he’s drinking - words just spill out of him then, slurred and nonsensical, a riddle left out in the open for whatever poor sod is around and willing to decipher it.

alex, on the other hand, is constantly brimming with words. any gaps left by george’s silence are filled by his voice, the words that always seem to escape george bouncing off his tongue so easily.

in other words, alex runs his mouth. a lot. goes on and on about anything and everything. it's an inside joke at this point, to sigh and shake their heads, to mutter _here we go again…_ every time alex launches into one of his long-winded stories, ridden with twists and turns and hyperbolised to hell and back. but george loves listening to him talk. alex could make a several hour long presentation on the evolution of the mighty chocolate bar, and george would probably still sit there, chin in hand, absorbing every moment of it. just to see the animated look in his eyes, the way he moves his hands about as he speaks, the way he hardly ever seems to pause for breath.

if george had to sort the people he loves into colours, alex would probably have to be the entire rainbow. he's everything, every shade and every hue of every colour. pastel when he's subdued, bright when he's happy.

he's too much to just be _one_ colour; so, he's all of them, in george's mind.

he wishes he had the words for it. but words are completely out of his reach, especially when it comes to alex.

so, he hopes the little things are enough. he'll brew him tea the way he likes it when he's stressed out, and he'll crack stupid jokes that coax a giggle out of him when he's sad, and he'll cook him dinner after a long day, and open up his arms for a hug when he knows he needs one, and he'll always make sure that, even if alex hadn’t woken up with a smile on his face, that he ended the day with one.

"i wanna thank you," alex mumbles, mid-massage. "for. ya know. being here. with me. i know it must be fuckin’ draining, having to deal with me all the time.”

george shakes his head, even though alex can't see him. "alex. you don't need to thank me. you never need to thank me - ”

"no," alex cuts him off. he shifts around, so they're facing each other, eye to eye again. "i _do._ i fucking do, just let me thank you, alright?” 

george nods, swallows and waits for alex to keep going.

“no one else does this for me, no one else takes care of me the way you do. i feel like, like i just wanna drown sometimes, like i’m floating and waiting for someone, or some _thing_ , to put me out of my misery, but you - you just, you _get_ me, and you make me feel like… like i'm alive, and normal, and just… _good_." he nods, like he's pleased with himself. pleased with the words he chose. “you make me feel good."

there’s so much that george wants to say right now. he wants to tell him how fucking pretty he finds him, how his entire world lights up whenever he sees him happy. he wants to tell him that nothing beats the feeling of being this close to him, close enough to feel his breath on his cheek, to see his own reflection staring back at him in his eyes. he wants to tell him he loves him, that he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him and that he’s so fucking lucky -

“i’d love to make you feel good."

“what?” alex snorts.

"shit," george mumbles. “that sounded wrong. i didn’t mean it like… you know what i meant."

alex is laughing, and he nods as he inches closer to him, smile warm and safe. "i know, i know.”

and it's fine, it's all good. alex is dozing off, eyes droopy and expression content - just the endgame that george had intended for when he came to check on him. but, of course, in true george fashion, when words don’t escape him, they come back to haunt him.

"i mean, i meant it the other way as well,” he says. “i _do_ wanna make you feel good, in, uh, in _that_ way."

alex opens his eyes again, the ghost of a frown on his face. “what do you mean?”

it’s all bubbling over now, in his chest and up to his throat and now it's in his mouth and then it’s spilling - out of his lips and into the air between them. “i _mean._ sometimes. when i’m with you, and when i look at you, i really, really wanna fucking kiss you. in front of everyone. i wanna hold your hand and pull you close and just fucking kiss you until you can't breathe."

alex is pink, eyes wide and breath bated. but he’s not recoiling, or shoving george’s body away from his, so. surely that’s a good sign.

his mouth opens then closes again, and george realises that this might be the first time he’s ever seen alex completely speechless, out of the words that he usually has an abundance of.

“i’m sorry, _god_ , that was - uh, a bit much for a tuesday night."

alex exhales through his nose. his face is still so pink, and george just wants him. he wants him more than he's ever wanted anything, ever.

he waits, though, for alex to sort through whatever thoughts are undoubtedly running through his mind right now. is he filing through new flatmate applications? who knows.

but he can't hold it in anymore. he'll burst at the seams if he doesn't get everything off his chest, if he doesn't let it all out. he feels like all the words he's been searching for for so long are finally coming to the fore, finally ready and waiting to be said aloud, to be heard. and alex is _here_ , he’s listening.

“i know you so well. i know everything about you, alex,” he says. “i know how easy it is to get under your skin. i know how bad it gets when you overthink. i know how sensitive you are, and how you try to cover it up by pretending you don’t care what people think, but i see it, and i know how much you _do_ care. i know how you see yourself, how you beat yourself up for getting things wrong even when you’re doing just fine, and i know how difficult you find it to let people in on what you’re really thinking. fuck, i _know_ you, alex, but it’s still not enough. i wanna know _all_ of you. i wanna know every single inch of you. i wanna be near you all the fucking time, i wanna kiss you and leave marks all over you and make you feel so fucking good _,_ i wanna - ”

then alex shuts him up, kisses him hard. he's invading his personal space, pushing into his arms, crushing their lips together. it’s hard and rushed and desperate, it’s everything and nothing and too much and not enough, all at once. there's a fire inside george and it's burning, lighting him up.

“jesus, george,” alex whispers. he’s breathless; they both are. he looks elated, like he's just won a lottery of sorts.

they're underneath the covers, warm and safe and close enough that george can hear alex's heartbeat, racing in his chest. he's looking at george with those soft eyes he's always looked at him with, and it hits him that he was never alone. that they're _both_ blind and stupid.

"i love you," george says, and it feels like a breath of fresh air; having the right words to say. "i really love you. and not just as a _mate._ as in, like, i'd probably marry you if i could - "

"if you'd have said you loved me as a mate after all _that_ then i'd never speak to you again." alex's foot is nudging his, fingers entwining with his own underneath the covers. "i love you, too."

he'd been holding his breath without even realising, and now he can breathe again. "god, i love you."

alex smiles. "you've said it already."

"don't care," he shrugs. "i'll keep saying it. i love you. i love you. i lo - " he's cut off again, his new favourite way to be cut off - alex's mouth on his, kissing him quiet.

they kiss for ages, until it's well into the night and alex is beginning to doze off again, face tucked into george's neck. knowing alex, george is probably gonna wake up with a trail of drool running down his collarbone. he grimaces at the thought, but doesn't dare make alex move.

he says it again, right before he falls asleep, just because he can, and even though alex probably can't hear him. "i love you." maybe it's just his imagination, but he swears he feels alex smile against his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> :'))


End file.
